


Women Live On Love

by Fictitious_Cucumber



Category: Dirge of Cerberus: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Humor, Bonding, Developing Friendships, Eventual Romance, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Romance, Turk Vincent Valentine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5882683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fictitious_Cucumber/pseuds/Fictitious_Cucumber
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wounded, blinded, and wanted as a murderer, Vincent falls into the hands of a young woman who has thrown herself out into the shanty outskirts of the illustrious city where politics and rebels clash and cause mayhem. They must both decide for themselves whether they will follow the red thread of fate that ties these seemingly two opposite worlds or go their own separate ways when the differences in their worlds become too great to endure together. </p>
<p>Inspired by the music video Women Live on Love by WAX (여자는 사랑을 먹고- 왁스). (Also posted on FF)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Women Live on Love**

 

**Chapter 1:** Our Fateful Meeting

 

**A/N:** I dont own final fantasy. PERIOD.

* * *

 

 Sirens wailed throughout the city, the bright red lights flashing obnoxiously against the darkness of the night. Tires screeched and the engine of his car roared in his ear as the police chased him down. The car swerved sharply around a tight corner. The jerky movement caused the driver to hiss in pain as the strain on his bloody arm burned his muscles.

He had managed to escape the worst of the explosion from the gas bomb. He was unable to, however, escape fast enough to avoid the impact from the flying debris. Another second later and he would have been in a coma or, worst, dead. On his temple was a burn mark left by a bullet narrowly missing its intended mark. Pain gripped his body but he kept calm. After all, he had been trained for worse situations. Losing any rationality now would do more harm than good, especially if he was going to get out of this alive.

The engine snarled menacingly as if answering to his call for survival as he caught more speed and increased the distance between him and the government dogs. He racked his brain for a plan; he would need to think of a strategy while he had the brain power. He knew he wouldn’t be able to continue to drive like this for much farther. The gas bomb they used was a special type he recognized by the particular odor it emitted. The gas bomb not only caused a deadly explosion, but it released a chemical causing the victims to lose eyesight. It would essentially make the criminals sitting ducks, even if they did end up running away and hiding. The only cure was at the medical center where the select medical staff who had access to the medication were obligated to report to government officials whenever someone suffering from this gas bomb came to be treated. It was a surprisingly effective system though not often used since no one ever dared to challenge the government's hold on the city. Not until AVALANCHE showed up.

He needed to park somewhere and soon before his vision got any worse. At most he would have 30 minutes before going completely blind. He managed to buy himself some time by darting out of the damaged building before they were able to surround the area. By the time they realized he was gone, he was already speeding down the streets of the city. Now, he needed to hide long enough till he could make contact with HQ. The dim lights that zoomed passed outside his window told him he was no longer within the city limits. He was in the remote outer areas of the city. It was a slum of some sorts, overrun by old empty buildings and old houses. A ghost town filled with deserters of the city life, usually people running away from obligations or dejected by the life of the city and close eye of the government. It was quieter here and darker, perfect for hiding.

He swerved onto a small dirt road that came up out of nowhere on the side of the highway. The dirt road morphed into an unsteady gravel road, remnants of what was once a smoothly paved street for the government had long stopped caring about this area. After a few of minutes, he pulled over under an unfinished bridge and parked his car in the shadows. He nearly stumbled out of the car when he ran off into the darkness; he wasn’t sure how close the authorities were. The streets were not very well lit here and it made it harder for him to navigate through the alleys. He pulled his dark red trench tight around him, using one of its many buckles to clot the blood from his wound on his stomach so that it would not drip and leave a trail. He wasn’t sure how long he had been running for though with each passing second his steps were becoming clumsier and he struggled to keep one foot in front of the other. The adrenaline rush that had pushed him on for the last 20 minutes was dying down and his body began to alert him of just what state he was actually in.

His vision was now very dull, the clear lines of objects meshing together. He needed to hide NOW. With his blood draining and heavy breathing, he barely registered the buzzing against his thigh. He reached into his pant pocket and picked up the phone.

“VINCENT! WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU OKAY?”

He could hear violent shouts and gunshots in the background over the phone. His friend must still be in the city among the chaos. "I'm fine, Cloud," Vincent replied, swallowing heavily. His mouth felt very dry. "It was a trap. They were expecting me." He held his breath when he heard distant yelling behind him. The police were near. "Yellow Rose,” he muttered quickly before turning his phone off completely and wordlessly dashed into the night with his last remaining strength.

The obscurity of the night and the dimly lighted streetlights made it worse along with the uneven, rough road. He had to be careful not to lose his balance and through his presently clumsy steps he managed to stumble onto a wall of some sort of building and patted his hands against the cold concrete trying to feel for a door. His vision was gone now and panic lurked deep inside him waiting to jump out at any sign of mental weakness. Vincent gritted his teeth as he forced himself to keep his shaky breathing steady. He suddenly felt an old rusty door and hurriedly lowered his hands to feel for a door knob. To his luck, the knob jiggled loosely. It was unlocked. Without a second thought, he jerked the door open and tumbled in while ungracefully shutting the door behind him.

His body nearly gave into exhaustion but his senses became alert, though not at their full potential. His hand instinctively grabbed his gun with a speed hard to believe considering his injured state. The gun was mostly steady and aimed towards to his right side. “Identify yourself,” he demanded roughly, making sure to keep his voice low.

"Stay where you are,” he warned threateningly when he heard a slight shuffle. A faint aroma of lemon and peonies wafted through his senses. He could conjecture where the person was through the countless training and experiences he had over the years.

After a couple of moments of silence passed by, a soft yet nervous voice spoke.

“Y…you can’t see.”

His cold placid mask did not falter even though he was surprised she knew so quickly. He was sure he was pointing his gun in the right direction as to not give away his vulnerability.

The tension between them was suffocating when suddenly a heavy pounding shattered the stillness.

“This is the police! Open up!”

Her face dropped in panic while the man remained perfectly still. When the banging wouldn’t stop, she stepped forward ignoring the gun at her face. “Get inside quickly.”

She grabbed him by the front of his jacket before he could react and nearly fell when half his weight leaned on her for support. He was much heavier than he appeared and she nearly threw him into her living room before running towards her kitchen.

He heard the two squeaky turns of a knob and heard water. The sink. What was she doing by the sink?

He heard her feet patter past by him and felt a rush of air and something soft brush against his skin. A towel? Robe of some sorts?

“I’m coming, I’m coming!”

He heard her voice, completely devoid of the panic and nervousness he had heard before.

“Can’t a girl take a shower in peace?” He heard the door open, and he held his breath.

“Have you seen anyone suspicious around here?” a man demanded in a gruff voice.

“Do I look like I saw someone suspicious around here? I literally came running out of the shower when you two jerks started pounding on my door! What’s this about?” She demanded angrily.

“Watch your tongue,” the other man growled.

“There was a terrorist attack in the government building in the city. We saw the man responsible escape to this area and we are looking for him. He’s a tall man with long black hair, should be injured. He is a dangerous creature and should not be handled by anyone.”

She rolled her eyes. “Duly noted. Can I go back to my shower now? With the way you two were knocking at my door, I thought this was some home invasion,” she said with a tired sigh.

“Alert the authorities of any suspicious activity or if you think you found this man,” the other man stated and handed her a small flyer.

She watched them leave, as they headed out to regroup with several other officials and some suspicious men in black suits. As they walked away, she could hear them talk.

“He can’t have gone far in this dump of a town.”

“Maybe if we’re lucky he’ll shut that bitch up.”

Her lips trembled and quickly pressed them tight to hold back her emotions. All the more reasons to NOT help them out, she thought bitterly. Quickly, she shut the door and placed the locks in place. She really needed to be better about locking her door.

His face was distorted in pain as he laid there helplessly. It was not an ideal situation for him: to be so injured and vulnerable at the hands of a female stranger, young by the sound of her voice. He didn’t trust people. He didn’t LIKE to trust people, and he did not like to be particularly helpless and chronically injured around strangers.

She was quite busy now. After the police had left, he heard the several different locks shift in place, which made him wonder why those had not been on in the first place. He knew, though, he should not think too cynically about it since it was because of that mistake he was able to hide.

Her bare foot pitter-pattered around him vigorously. He could hear her mumble to herself, though it was too quiet for him to hear clearly exactly what she was distressed about. What he could hear clearly were usually the curse words that shot out here and there. He heard drawers sliding in and out with a noisy clatter as she rummaged through what sounded like were cluttered drawers. This person was not particularly organized.

“Not here….Shit where did I put the extras…”

He heard her run past him again, this time towards the bathroom. In the distance, the sound of the shower head turning on and the deep bellowing echo following after drew in his mind a bucket being filled with water. She was all over the place, almost as if working on each new thing that popped inside her mind. He supposed it was not all that bad. Her mindless muttering and flailing about distracted him a little bit from his excruciating pain.

Based on the sound of her bare footsteps and muttering, he deducted that this house was not particularly large. Probably a small with decent enough space for one or two persons to live comfortably without feeling too claustrophobic. A kitchen towards his front, a bedroom towards his left, and a bathroom towards his right.

She finally came back to him, and he felt her there. Her small hands lifted his head gently as she slid a soft pillow underneath, pulling his hair back. With a small grunt, she managed to slip his trench coat off his body along with his black button up shirt.

He heard a small gasp and a barely inaudible “shit” that whipped past under her breath. He assumed she finally saw the extent of his injuries. To his surprise, the shock was brief, a sort of initial reaction before she dove right in and skillfully got to work. The strong smell of the disinfectant hit his nostrils as he felt something cool and wet rub near his wounds and, to his surprise, around his eyes. He felt the stinging around his eyes from the potency of the disinfectant.

“S'rry,” she murmured, “but I have to make sure there’s no left over residue around your eyes.”

He endured in silence. After all, it wasn’t painful, just discomforting, though it did make his eyes slightly water. She shuffled beside him and he wondered what she was up to. He tensed slightly unsure of what to expect next when he heard the grinding of two smooth stones crushing against each other. She grunted softly and he heard a type of liquid drizzling down into a container; she sounded like she was ringing something out.

 “Could ya look straight up for me?” When he did, she made a sound of approval. “Great, if you'll keep looking up. I am going to pour a solution down your eyes so please try not to blink.” If he had cared, he might have been touched at her attentiveness to his current blindness.

The solution was surprisingly thick; he had expected a much thinner viscosity. As it oozed over his eyes, the stinging came as expected as if each molecule in the liquid was raging a war on every single neuron and cell in his eyes. He winced but made sure not to blink, and after a few moments, a welcoming cooling sensation flurry over his eyes.

“You can close your eyes now.”

He obeyed and felt a cold moist cloth drape over his eyes the instance his lashes brushed his cheeks. Sensing his confusion and wariness, she explained, “This should help with the blindness, but it won’t regain your vision completely.”

His curiosity and suspicion of her grew at this information. That meant that she had treated victims of this gas bomb in whatever facility she had worked for, and he knew exactly who made up a good majority of those victims. His frown deepened and it did not go unnoticed.

“Hey, I’m not some magician all right? This is the limit of my capabilities and you should be thanking me for doing at least this much,” she griped. “Some people…” she trailed off bitterly.

She went to work on his wounds next, starting with the largest and worst of the bunch: his abdomen. A horrifying gash and burned edges adorned what would have been a clean and beautiful skin. He heard another soft sigh.

It was a strange feeling, he thought. If Vincent had just gained consciousness, he would have assumed he was being treated by a doctor or a nurse. The minimal gestures that moved with a purpose and care articulated to him that she was no ordinary citizen. This woman, however young she may sounded, had to have some sort of medical background, a prestigious one at that if she had experience with treating the blind gas. It seemed the gods had not abandoned him just yet since he was lucky enough to have run into someone like her. Or, this was a very elaborate joke on him and he was actually on enemy ground.

Somewhere in his gut, he knew the latter was implausible.

A warm cloth rubbed against his skin. “A clean body heals faster,” she muttered softly. She must have felt the need to explain each gesture. “Also decreases the chance of an infection, and I do not have any antibiotics for you, mister.” _I didn’t have time to steal them._ She kept that thought to herself though.  

He knew she was finished with him when he heard her pack away whatever she had brought out. Careful not to ruin what she had done, he slowly moved his hands over his body of where she treated him inspecting her work. She gave him a side eye for scrutinizing her work but she was too tired to even complain and just left him to it.

He was satisfied to an extent, and leaned back into his pillow.

“You’re too heavy to move so you’ll have to make do on the floor,” she said when she came back into the living room. A soft sheet draped over his body before another heavier blanket went over on top. He heard a little sigh as she literally tucked him in to bed like a mother would to their child. “You… You’re free to stay here until your friends or whoever you work with can pick you up…or whatever. I won’t rat you out, so you can relax a little bit...”, she trailed off before pressing on. “Or not, do what makes you feel comfortable. Just take into consideration that the more you’re stressed, the slower it is to heal your wounds. Good night.” She rushed into her room and he heard the door shut along with a soft click, informing him in a strange amusement that she locked her door. Clearly, she was more worried about him than he was with her considering he was in the more vulnerable situation. 

* * *

 

She fell against her bed with an exhausted plop as she finally had a time to reflect on her decisions and the events that swept up her night like a tornado. She had been talking on the phone with Tifa when suddenly she heard her door open and a loud thud, and inconsiderately to Tifa, she had ushered a quick ‘I’ll talk to you later’ and hung up on her. Her heart had pounded against her chest in a panic, thinking someone had barged in and was going to mug her, and that thought hadn't gone away when she saw the tall man slumped against her wall, bleeding and breathing in agony. She had presumed she was right actually, especially considering he pulled that gun on her.

What she had noticed through the dangerous situation and the deadly injured man glaring at her with eyes of hate, was the way he had pulled that gun on her. The movement was smooth and barely faltered even though she was sure he had lost a lot of blood considering his sickly pale skin. This man, whoever he was, was a pro at what he did.

Why didn’t she give him up when those men had knocked on her door? Her problems literally would have been solved right then and there. She could have gone back to sleep, probably. She gripped her sheets tightly and buried her face into her soft sheets, trying to physically erase the memories that flashed into her head when she saw those men. After all, who wants to remember the night her friend got murdered?

She knew immediately whatever indecision she was toiling with inside her mind had come to a complete stop the moment she saw their faces, specifically their suits. It had taken all her energy to force her to not freeze up and act naturally in front of them.

They were similar to the men she had met five years ago, back at the hospital. That terrible, terrible night. She knew from then on she couldn’t give this man up. Not to these men.

Well, that was half a lie. She did bring him inside before she even saw the authorities. She even pretended she had come out of the shower to lower their suspicion. She supposed her body moved first before she had time to think: she saw an injured man first before she saw a criminal. She simply supposed. Still, whatever second thoughts that was in her mind as she walked up to that door had vanished when she saw those men.

Her attention went back to the man she treated tonight. The minuscule old scars lingering on his body told her a story of his background. One that involved a lot of combat and a lot of blood. She flipped over onto her back and inhaled deeply before exhaling painfully slow, relieving whatever pressure sat on her chest. Back to the man. Even among the blood and the disheveled long hair, she could tell he had a handsome face. She guessed even assassins could have a pretty face. Though, she wondered in her sad attempt to relieve the seriousness of this situation at what point did he look in the mirror and saw THAT face and thought that his career path should be the cold life of an assassin. She was sure he would have made a really successful model.

The young woman hugged her pillow tightly and sighed again for the hundredth time that night. She hoped his friends would come quickly. She hoped they knew about his whereabouts. She hoped they wouldn’t kill her when they did come to pick him up. She hoped he had friends. It would be very unfortunate of her fate if he was some sort of independent handsome guy gone awry. She tried to joke about it in her head but the unsettling shakiness inside her chest did not ease away.

At this point, she just hoped she wouldn’t regret this decision to help him out. After all, she tried to stay away from any sort of drama ever since five years ago. She closed her eyes and forced herself to sleep. Whatever the fates had in store for her, she would deal with it one day at a time.

* * *

A/N: This is a rewrite if you have read the Fanfiction.net version of it. I had worked on a rewrite a few years back but my computer crashed and the entire rewrite disappeared and I was like FUCK IT and gave up for 3 years or so. Now I'm officially back. Hope you enjoyed this story if its your first time, and I hope you enjoyed the rewrite for those of you (probably very few) who knew the story from Fanfiction.

 

I definitely recommend checking out the music video Women Live On Love by WAX. It's one of my favorite ballads bc WAX is queen when it comes to ballads. At least in my day LOL. 

 


	2. Memories of Old

Yuffie felt surprisingly light and serene, wrapped up in a dreamy slumber. The visual of herself, she imagined, would be like a sleeping beauty awakening from her deep yet extremely comfortable slumber. It would have been had she not (conveniently) forgotten her sleeping habits. Her body was completely contorted and sprawled across her queen sized bed with her face buried under a large pillow while her comforter was tossed and tangled somewhere near her feet. She vaguely registered that it was morning. The lull of the ocean waves was audible even through her closed windows; in and out in and out like the steady row of a boat and like every morning for the past five years, it calmed her mind. The first thought that popped into Yuffie’s mind as she tried to motivate herself to get up, was what to eat for breakfast. The little valley between her brows creased as she racked her memory for the ingredients in her fridge and pantry, debating if there was something worthy of cooking or if she should pop over to Tifa’s bar and mooch off her breakfast. She then remembered Tifa mentioning vaguely last night before cutting their conversation short that she may have been out of town. Damn, there went her free breakfast.

Then, of course, hit reality. Yuffie recalled her murderous patient just outside her door and wished she hadn’t woken up. Begrudgingly, she rolled over to check her phone and 9:00am blinked up on the screen. With a little sigh, she headed to the bathroom to refresh herself and changed into a loose long t-shirt and a pair of grey leggings. When she felt clean and fresh, she walked towards her bedroom door and placed a cautious hand on the door knob. She was nervous. Should she greet him a cheerful good morning? Or should she ignore him until he said something? What did one do in this situation? Getting a grip on herself, she turned the knob. She wasn’t sure what she expected when she opened the door, but she was oddly surprised by the complete silence of the room. If she hadn’t look to her right, it would have felt like any normal morning but instead she glanced to her right. Her eyes lingered on her patient, who seemed to still be asleep.

Even in his unconsciousness, Yuffie felt the strain of awkwardness between them. She decided that the best way to handle this discomfort would be to just act as she had always done; she drew her curtains back as quietly as she could and the warm morning sunlight and the view of the hazy blue ocean greeted her. She glanced back and felt relieved to see he was still asleep. She was about to head to the kitchen to begin cooking when she noticed that he still had the cloth over his eyes. He hadn’t moved it even after she announced she was going to go to bed last night. He listened well for someone who very nearly killed her.

 _‘By now it would have to be dry,’_ she thought and carefully reached over to take it. Her body was tense as she removed it cautiously, expecting some sort of reaction from him but there was not even a twitch. It appeared he was deep in sleep. Yuffie took advantage of his sleep to observe him more. She definitely refuted last night’s thoughts when she thought he should have been a model. It was literally criminal to be this handsome and not be a model. It was strange though, how normal he appeared with his eyes closed, how almost human he seemed. Granted, he was actually human; the amount of blood she wiped off from him proved that.

Nevertheless, the smooth fluidity of his hand movements last night, especially with his gun and his, for the most part at least, lack of response as she stitched him up last night practically made her believe he was some sort of android. But now, with his eyes closed, he seemed eerily normal, as if he was some guy she picked up from a bar fight. But she knew once those eyes opened, he was none of those things. There behind those eyes laid a deep mystery, eyes she could never relate to or even fathom an inch of what they have witnessed. All those experiences and memories made up this man who lay before her. Yuffie abruptly shook her head, scoffing. She was getting a little bit existentialistic and this was much too deep of an observation of a man she had just met. She stood up and headed to the kitchen, trying to keep her mind distracted. He wouldn’t be able to eat much in his condition so she figured fixing him something that would be easy on his stomach would be the best course of action.

It was going to be hard cooking quietly.

* * *

The faint aroma of freshly made hot rice brushed against his senses like a nostalgic touch from somewhere deep in his mind that was too distant to recognize. Opening his eyes took a lot of effort as if every cell in his body was drowsily waking up, one by one.

What he noticed first was color. There was light and there was color. He blinked once, then twice, and waited for something that did not come unfortunately. No matter how he blinked or narrowed his eyes, his surroundings would not focus into his view. Everything around him was fuzzy. The edges and lines melded into each other and it felt like looking at a blurred Picasso painting. The woman proved to be true yet again; she could not cure the blindness. However, this was better than nothing, though getting around with this type of vision would take time. He did not bother getting up as there was no point. His body was still weak, maybe even weaker than yesterday. He wanted to be alert in case anything happened but he was drained.

There was no sense in fighting or scheming at this point; for now, the best course of action would be to relax and trust his instincts. He continued to lay there, listening to the light rhythmic chop of the knife against the grain of the wooden cutting board, the soft gurgle of some type of soup bubbling away in a pot. Turning his head, he now gave his attention to what sounded and smelled like the ocean. In the chaos of the night yesterday, he seemed to have missed that there was the ocean nearby, and the thought of that made him bite the inside of his cheek irately. He should not have missed that, no matter what his body condition may have been. That was a keen detail he should not have overlooked. A pain shot up through his stomach, reminding him curtly that he should not strain himself mentally and physically especially if he wanted to heal quickly. He forced himself to relax and leaned back against his pillows.

It was an odd sort of environment as he directed his attention to this house. It was definitely one he was not accustomed to if ever at all. There was a tranquility that radiated in this house, a stifling sense of normalcy. This was what a normal home must felt like to most people.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he heard her say. “Here’s some water.”

She knelt beside him and placed a glass of water in his hand, her hand surrounding his own to grip the glass and raised it to his lips. He surprised himself when he drank the water down greedily. “Do you think you can eat?” she asked as she took the empty glass away from his fingers. He did not answer, and sat there with a blank face.

“Oi, I know you’re blind, not deaf.”

“No.”

Happy she got an answer, the young woman smiled in satisfaction. “Well, we’ll try later then. I don’t want to force you to eat when you don’t feel like it. Do you mind if I go ahead and eat first? I’m pretty hungry.”

He shook his head.

The sounds of her eating felt as if it was magnified by the silence, so she swiftly turned on the television She didn’t particularly cared for the news as it always made her angry or triggered old memories she did not want to relive, but she left it on since that was the rare channel that had good reception. Also, she tried to be considerate towards her guest, assuming that he would want to know what was happening in the city after whatever he did. Last night she had glanced at the flyer the men gave her before throwing it away hastily, and it had appeared he had attacked and killed a lot of people, mostly people in government and the Shinra Cooperation. She recollected how for a brief second she had paled when she had seen the number of bodies he was responsible for.

As she chewed, she tried very hard not to mind the news. _“-City in chaos.”_

_“It appears the terrorist organization AVALANCHE was responsible for the direct attack onto the Shinra E building, which was a generous donation from ten years ago from Shinra Cooperation to the government as an appreciation gift for the business deal-….”_

People weren’t stupid. Most of the citizens knew Shinra bought out the government essentially, and the very building was a symbol of that corruption. It was no donation but a very costly purchase by Shinra.

 _“Though the identity of the members of AVALANCHE has not been discovered, authorities managed to find a picture from the security footage of the man responsible for last night’s terrorist attack.”_ Something about money reward. She chewed harder.

“A crack down on security….”

She took another large bite.

_“…Access to city will be monitored…”_

She threw back her glass of water like a shot.

_“…Protect citizens…”_

A telephone ring saved her from having to continue to listen to the news and she hurriedly picked up the phone and ran inside her room, leaving the man to enjoy the news by himself.

“Yuffie.”

She bit her lower lip and cringed. “Tifa, hi…”

“You never called me back last night.”

“Y…yes…I forgot, sorry,” she apologized as sweetly as she could over the phone, desperately attempting to evoke this emotion through the phone and hope that somehow it reached her friend and melted her completely justified, but terrifying anger.

All she heard was a heavy sigh. Her plan may have worked.

“Do you know how worried I was? I thought something happened to you! And I would have come over straight away if I wasn’t out of town.”

“I’m really sorry, I fell asleep right after.”

“At least you picked up now. Seriously, I thought you got robbed or killed or something… Anyway what happened last night? Are you all right?”

“YES!” Yuffie said that too hastily, and she knew her friend would be suspicious even more. “Uh the police came by.”

“The police?!”

She could hear the alarm in Tifa’s voice and no doubt she was panicking as much as she had last night.

“Were they looking for you? How did they find you?”

“No, no, it wasn’t me. There was a….an incident last night in the city and they were trying to find the culprit. He apparently was found escaping in this direction,” Yuffie answered, silently relieved that she didn’t have to talk to Tifa in person. She would have seen her face and know for sure that there was more to it than that. Tifa was an incredibly intuitive person, which was both a redeeming and frightening quality to her personality.

“He must have done something extraordinary for them to come out all the way here to find him,” Tifa commented. Though she sounded mostly amused, there was an underlying sense of worry lined in her voice.

“He really did,” Yuffie sighed. “It’s all over the news, you can find out more on TV.”

“I’ll find out when I get back. They don’t really have great reception over here.”

“Where are you by the way?”

“I’m out in the country, near the Wutai Clan. I’m out doing quality checks from our suppliers here and also making a quick delivery, I should be back in a day or so. Is there anything you need, I can pick it up on my way back.”

“You’re going to kill me when you come home,” Yuffie suddenly confessed. She never could keep a secret from Tifa too long.

There was a pause before she spoke. “What did you do?” she questioned in a knowing tone.

“I’ll tell you when you get back but first I have a request. Can you get me some men’s clothes?”

“What?”

“Men’s clothes…”

“What? Do you have a guy there? Nope, never mind, I am not doing this over the phone. You have so much to explain to me when I get back.”

“We can’t talk about it over the phone?” Yuffie asked anxiously, chewing on her lower lip.

“No.”

 _'FUCKKK_  ,' she mouthed silently. She hated direct confrontation, especially when it came to Tifa. _Tifa and her stupid intuitive personality…and her stupid motherly instinct…and her stupid big boobs…_

“Fine…” she grumbled. “But will you still get me what I need?”

“Yes, I will. What size do you need?”

“…Do you have anything for Big and Tall?”

* * *

 

She felt a little awkward to talk to him after her phone conversation with Tifa. Though she didn’t reveal anything to her friend, she felt like she exposed him somehow. The television was still on but luckily the news had past and they were showing reruns of an old show. She turned down the volume for him when she had a feeling he was getting annoyed from the noise.

“You should eat something to regain your strength,” Yuffie said as she headed towards the kitchen and turned on her stove. “You put off eating for too long now.”

Once the food was reheated, she brought the tray next to him. The nutty smell of miso hit him first before the warmth that breathed from the hot soup greeted him next. The aroma and warmth stirred his appetite though one wouldn’t know from his expression. She lifted a bowl in her hand and mixed the rice porridge with a spoon.

“I’ll have to feed you for now because of your blindness. Don’t make that face, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” she scolded.

Truth be told, she didn’t know what he felt since he always had that stoic expression plastered on his face like a stone statue, but she had a feeling he was unhappy with the idea that she was going to feed him. She gently scraped the top layer of the rice porridge, making sure not to dig too deep or else she would scoop out the hot under layer of the rice porridge.

“This is the rice porridge, I didn’t season it with anything so it can settle your stomach,” she explained. “You should be able to gauge where the spoon is though right?”

She accepted his answer which was to open his mouth and take the food.

“This is the miso soup,” she said as she scooped up some of the hot soup. “It’s a little hot so be careful.”

He could tell she used a very small amount of miso in the soup, probably to make sure he didn’t eat anything too strongly seasoned. He was thankful of it in the back of his mind since he knew his stomach was a bit sensitive. She continued the same pattern: telling him which food it was before lifting it to his lips to eat. She would pause as close as she could without actually touching his lips so he could feel the temperature and gauge where the food was before opening his mouth to eat it. It was terribly considerate of her and he was almost moved by it. Almost.

He was also bitter about how useless he felt, just sitting around and having things done for him. This was not how he operated.

“How is your vision by the way, I forgot to ask,” she said as she paused in feeding him. He always answered with silence first before he spoke, she realized, and she wasn’t sure if it was just the way he spoke in general or just around her.

“I can see colors very faintly but my eyes will not focus. Everything appears to be blurry.”

She nodded. “That’s usually the case. How badly unfocused is it? Is there a specific distance your eyes will focus at?”

“I do not know.”

He heard her place the bowl down and his eyes widened when he saw her close in on him. He, of course, couldn’t see her exactly, just the faint colors that made her physical existence and the shadow that cast from her movement.

“Can you see me? My face?” She asked curiously with a tinge of excitement edged in her tone. They were nearly touching noses.

“No.”

“Do I look a little bit clearer though?” She asked again.

“No.”

“Oh,” she said in disappointment and returned to her seat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to lean so close like that,” she apologized, just now grasping how close and invasive that must have been to him. After all, she was still just a stranger. Trying to erase the awkwardness, she scooped up some of the rice and fed him some more. After a few more spoonful, he turned his head slightly away from her.

“No more?”

He nodded.

“I guess this is good enough,” she said as she saw the rice bowl and it was down by half. This was better than what she had expected, considering how deep that gash was on his abdomen. She let him drink a bit more tea before refilling it and guiding his hand so he felt where she left the cup in case he wanted to drink more.

“Why didn’t you turn me in?” he suddenly asked when she turned away to rise from her seat.

It was now her turn to respond with silence.

“It would have been easy to do so considering the state I was in,” he said emotionlessly, as if he wouldn’t have blamed her if she had done so. “You would have been rewarded by them.”

He heard that little sigh that seem to hang from her lips since upon meeting her.

“I wish I knew,” she said softly.

“You’re lying.”

“I didn’t know you were so talkative.”

He could feel her glare.

“Will I be able to ask you this many questions about yourself as you are asking me?”

He stayed quiet again.

“I honestly don’t know,” she answered reluctantly, unable to take the quietness between them. She was never good at these silent battles. “At first, I thought you were some burglar but clearly that wasn’t the case when I got a good look at you. But I suppose, after I saw your injuries, my instinct as a nurse came first.” Also I figured you couldn’t be too bad considering you didn’t shoot me right away. Even with my amateur eye, I could tell you weren’t a normal burglar.”

“I could have not shot you in case they heard the gunshot.”

Yuffie snorted at his remark. “You had a silencer on! They wouldn’t have been able to hear that regardless.”

His usual indifference now had a somewhat stunned expression though it was a very subtle change in his face.

“I may not be familiar with weapons but I’ve seen enough movies to know what it is.”

Another couple of moments of silence passed. This time it was his turn to speak. “I take it that was not all.”

She cursed inside her mind; what was it with her and meeting people who were so freaking intuitive? Or maybe it wasn’t that others were intuitive, but that she was just too obvious.

“The real reason…” she started slowly, wavering a little bit, “is…I met someone like you once.” _‘Someone wanted by those people. Someone who got caught by those people…,’_ she finished in her head.

He turned his head towards her directly now so they were face to face. There was intensity behind those seemingly blank and unseeing eyes and it made her uncomfortable. Fortunately for her, he did not have the vision to know that she avoided his eye contact.

“I don’t want to get into it too much…because I have my own reasons like you,” she murmured quietly, referring to him not wanting her to ask so many questions about him. “I met him once…or maybe it was twice, through a friend. She was the one who knew him personally, and I figured if she trusts him then he’s not…such a bad person, maybe.” She didn’t notice the way her fingers became stiff from the cold that sluggishly crept throughout her body as she spoke about that eventful day.

“Do you know his name?”

The memories came crashing like a brick chucked through a window, except it was happening over and over again like a broken record. She knew his name. Of course she did. After all, she could hear his name, being shrieked in that horrified voice.

_ZACK!!!!!_

_ZAACCKK!!!_

“….I- I-I-…hi-h-his,” She was not even aware that she was stuttering severely as her mind was completely consumed with scenes and voices she had strained desperately to hide deep inside her memories. It was hard to tell if her stuttering came from her voice or from her body actually quivering violently. Little whimpers trembled from her lips when unexpectedly a large steady hand grabbed her forearm. She flinched from the contact.

“Oi,” he said sternly. There was a gravity in his voice that rooted her to the ground.

 _‘Did he just mimic her?’_ she thought. The oddity of his action brought her halfway out of that dark place. That was the only thing he said and nothing else. No words of comfort or support except for that strong hand that kept her in place. She was so fixated in trying to regain her composure that she missed the way his thumb rubbed her skin tenderly.

“S-sorry,” she managed to murmur through her stutter. The trembling was dying down thanks to her forcing herself to regain control of her breathing. He didn’t try to pry any more than that. Blindness aside, he didn’t need vision to know this was a completely sensitive subject for her though he was intrigued by her reaction in that it mimicked a person who had post-traumatic stress disorder. Clearly, she had gone through something that had scarred her deep inside.

He wasn’t a cold person by nature though and he could respect her for telling him this much considering the fact that he had told her nothing about himself. He also felt a little bad that he triggered such a response. Just a little though.

Now feeling thoroughly mortified, she stood up abruptly and headed towards the sliding glass doors overlooking the small deck behind her house.

“It’s getting a little chilly outside, I’ll close this,” she said distractedly with a sniffle.

“Vincent.”

Whatever feelings of embarrassment and horror dropped at the moment she heard those words utter from his lips. Her hand was resting on the handle of the glass doors she just closed, and she swallowed hard when she comprehended what she had just heard.

“My name is Vincent. Vincent Valentine.”

For a short second, her heart tightened inside her chest but it left as quick as it had come.

“Thank you,” she replied softly. She sniffled again before clearing her throat to try and shake off whatever melancholy and awkwardness lingered on her body.

“I’m Yuffie. Yuffie Kisaragi!” She said, unexpectedly upbeat, “The best damn nurse this area has seen in a long, long time, if ever.”

It was a strange introduction, but he knew she was a bit strange. At any rate, her weirdness voiced to him that she was back to normal, or at least she was attempting to be herself once again and it oddly comforted him. He nodded and with that same stoic face he responded,

“I am in your care, Yuffie Kisaragi.”

His strangely obliging reply incited a laugh from her, noting how her genuine laughter seemed to fill the room.

“Don’t worry, Vincent, with me as your nurse, you’ll be well and back with your friends in no time!”

Their exchange of names unofficially marked an unspoken mark of trust between them, unknowingly binding them to each other until the end.

* * *

A/N: If you enjoyed the story, please hit kudos or comment (if you want!) I enjoy reading replies or criticism from readers and they really keep me motivated!

 


	3. An Observation of Vincent; Tifa's Return

Fortunately for Yuffie, Tifa's trip to the Wutai Clan got extended which meant she did not have to deal with Tifa's impending scolding that was sure to come. The timing could not have been better since there were some police who still lurked around the area, and Tifa despised the police. The good news was that they were slowly dispersing as the days progressed as their criminal was nowhere to be found. So all in all, it was good for everyone. Except Vincent.

Yuffie had happened to overhear them complaining about the pointlessness of the search when she had to go pick up some more groceries. After all, if a blind, severely injured man hasn't turned up by now, it was safe to say he probably miraculously escaped or was dead in a ditch somewhere. What they were looking for now was probably his dead body; that way his death would be confirmed at least.

The rain had been a godsend, perhaps a sign of good fortune for Vincent, as it had washed away any potential scents that may have lingered on the streets of their little shanty town. The police had underestimated this search. They had been so confident in finding him due to his condition. It wasn't long before they began to realize just how wrong they had been. When they had finally brought out the search dogs, the rain had already fallen for a day and what had begun first as a light shower rapidly intensified into a heavy shower. Whatever trace of Vincent had been left on the street was now literally down the drain.

Yuffie had been giving him little updates of what was happening in the streets. She had not been quite sure if he appreciated it or not, but she had figured he would at least be interested in it considering he was the target of their judicial affection. Regardless of what she had informed him, he would always reply with a soft 'nn' or nothing, with nothing being the usual answer.

Oddly enough, she didn't mind his quiet responses. She first did mind them, thinking it was completely rude of him to ignore her like that. If he heard her, he could have at least nodded or answered vocally. After observing him, she realized his "no response" was actually a response.

His silent responses actually had the most miniscule changes in his demeanor. It was more of a change in the air around him than an actual physical one. She had however begun to wonder if she had been basically making excuses for a man who was indeed very selfish.

* * *

Today, she was hidden away in the laundry room. She wasn't doing anything in particularly out of the ordinary, only folding the laundry that had piled up along with Vincent's things. The one downside to the rain was that she couldn't hang her sheets up outside. She loved the way they smelled and the way they felt against her skin when they were dried in the sun. They became a physical embodiment of the sun's rays and the ocean breeze, smelling like the sunlight while each thread captured the ocean breeze, creating a softness and warmth no dryer could ever mimic.

But then, this was nice too. There was a peacefulness permeating in this room, though it had nothing to do with actually doing the laundry. Yuffie knew there were people who felt peace while doing the laundry or even doing the dishes, almost like a self-care mantra. Unfortunately, she was not one of those people. The peacefulness that embraced her was more from the privacy and the scent of fresh laundry.

With the washing machine churning away in the background, she could stand still and be absorbed in her thoughts without feeling like she was being too quiet or suspicious, especially from Vincent's perspective. Due to his condition, she couldn't help but feel suspicious of her own self when she was being too quiet, nevertheless this thought could be entirely one sided. Yuffie stifled a yawn as she reached inside the basket to grab her next article of clothing.

This one was heavy and nearly stretched above her head. The length and color immediately told her it was Vincent's. With a grunt, she dumped it onto ironing board she was using as a makeshift folding table. Her fingers curiously smoothed over the coat as they took in course and thick texture. The ends were tattered like the edges of a grunge teenager's overly long jeans, though she doubted the long tatters from the deliberate consequences of puberty-induced teenage angst.

Yuffie had thought the dark rusty red color of the trench coat was from the amount of blood it had soaked. Seeing it after a thorough wash, she realized this was the original color of the coat. The color was surprisingly rich even though the texture of the fabric informed her the coat was probably as old as it's master. She wondered just how much of the vibrancy of the coat was from the actual coat itself and not the stains of blood it had absorbed over the course of its long years.

For a supposed secret assassin, the trench coat was not very inconspicuous at all, most likely exposing its wearer to its enemies rather than concealing him unless he happened to be fighting in a field of red tulips. But then again, AVALANCHE was not a very inconspicuous organization when it came to their actions. Wherever they went, they happened to make a very big and angry statement, all the while somehow being very elusive from the authorities.

Yuffie folded the coat as evenly as she could and placed it in the pile designated as 'Vincent's', which was comprised of a worn out black button up shirt with a tear in the lower middle and some long black slacks. She had reluctantly given Vincent her favorite pair of grey sweatpants, a pair she had stolen from her ex-boyfriend some time ago back when she used to live in the city. He had been pretty tall too, she remembered, but even his height was no match for Vincent's, with the pants coming short of his ankles. Yuffie had snickered when she saw him in it, which had prompted a glare from Vincent.

It had only been a couple of days but she could feel herself getting drawn to Vincent. Was this what they referred to as Stockholm Syndrome? Not that she or Vincent was a hostage by any means. It was more likely due to them being around each other 24/7. One thing was obvious, she was very curious about him.

She wondered how he felt, not physically of course but emotionally. From a glance, he seemed cold to her but that was far from the truth. He was just very indifferent, not to others but to himself which did not equate to being emotionless per say. He just seemed like the type of person who did not exhibit his emotions outwardly; he was a man who was very much in control of his emotions.

Yuffie stepped out with his folded items in her arms and set them beside him. "The top one is your shirt but it has a large rip. I didn't know if you wanted to throw it away or not, so I kept it for you. I can try and repair it if you'd like. The second one from the top are your slacks and the bottom is your trench coat."

He merely nodded and she took that as a thank you.

"Also," she started carefully, "I found this in the pocket of your trench coat." Yuffie placed the slim black cell phone in his palm. "I'm sorry but I checked your phone, I didn't see anything since it was locked. I saw that it had a 1% battery life left and I figured I should tell you since you can't see. You may be able to get a text through, maybe if you're lucky you could manage a call."

The silence was unbearable. He stared at the phone with such an intensity that she nearly forgot he couldn't actually see it. Yuffie wondered if she shouldn't have mentioned the phone and stuck it below his pillow as if it had dropped from his trench coat. Or maybe, she shouldn't have washed his clothes but they were beginning to stink especially with all the blood. She wondered if he would kill her now or threaten her with his gun since she saw too much, but it was just a phone! And it was locked!

Yuffie yelped when he thrusted the cell phone into her chest. At least his arm was healing, she thought and looked at the phone and then at him in confusion.

"Can I trust you?" he asked. He was looking at her now. The question was not really a question for his validation as his unwavering eyes indicated he had already made the decision. It was more for her and letting her decide, if she was willing to accept his trust of her.

"Yes," she said firmly.

He didn't waste another second. "Password is 33216281217482. Quickly go into messages and find the name CS and send a text to that person."

"What do I say?"

"Dogwood."

She took a deep breath before opening the phone quickly. One percent battery life was always a gamble. You never knew how much of the one percent was actually there; you might have the entire one or perhaps just half of that. It meant there was no time to fumble with the phone. Any delayed action or pointless pressing meant a waste of that one percent battery life. She flipped opened the phone and after typing in the long passcode, she saw that there was a shortcut to the messages and pressed the button. Then she scrolled down to CS and typed it in. As she keyed in the last letter, the screen darkened and without a second to lose she pressed SEND.

Sending…

Sending…

SENT!

The second the SENT screen appeared, the screen blacked out completely.

"I think it went through, it said SENT before the phone died." Yuffie handed the phone back to him. "By the way, what does dogwood mean?"

"It means safe."

She stared at him and swallowed back the lump in her throat.

She was reminded time and time again that being blind didn't mean your eyes were dead. He stared with such vigor and power, she felt like the gravity from his eyes dragged her towards him. It reminded her of the night they laid eyes on each other.

"I trust you, Yuffie," he said quietly.

Yet it wasn't like the night she had met him. No, this time there was a warmth she never experienced with him before other than that time when he waited through her panic attack with him holding her wrist. She knew they had established a small amount of trust by revealing their names back then, but this couldn't compare to that. Whatever led him to decide to trust her to this extent, she wasn't even sure as well, but she was eternally grateful for it since it meant he was letting himself be exposed, and this was definitely not a man who would do that so easily given his profession.

Something swelled inside her and made her chest feel full, leaving her strangely breathless and a little dizzy. "I…uh...I'll go make some lunch! I managed to get some bread the other day so we can have a little something different than rice and soup like we usually have!" She chattered on as she escaped towards the kitchen though not without stubbing her toe against one of the beams with a painful thump.

Yuffie hissed with another colorful word as she hopped into the kitchen with a stubbed toe. "I'm okay," she groaned through her teeth.

Once again, her home was now filled with her chatter and the usual sounds of the kitchen. These were the sounds Vincent had gotten used to the past five days. The sounds of her inability to close the cabinets gently and instead letting them slam through their momentum, or the almost customary sounds of her rummaging through her disorganized drawers. Of course, then after a couple minutes, he would hear her taste something and if it was good, a happy hum and then another taste to validate the deliciousness once more. If it was bad, she'd stay quiet or a small frustrated puff of air would follow after the taste test.

Yuffie was too busy to notice Vincent's relaxed sigh as he leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes while the corners of his lips turned up in the faintest way.

* * *

With the police now finally gone, Yuffie had the door to the deck slid all the way opened. He seemed to like the ocean breeze, and she did too. She sensed that the air probably got too stuffy and stale especially with him being inside all the time. Before she would have it opened just a smidge but now it was fully open with the ocean in view.

He slowly regained his strength over the next couple of days and she continued to change his bandages diligently. The worst of his injuries were all that remained now. His abdomen and his temple were particular areas Yuffie continued to keep a close eye on and kept cleaned. She was amazed and relieved that he didn't suffer from any infections especially considering the wound on his stomach when he had first showed up and was covered in debris and concrete dust. Truly, the gods were on his side.

Yuffie caught him often standing and walking around with a hand against the wall when she would watch TV. She didn't help him physically and instead watched him. Whenever he would get too close to something like a side table or standing lamp, she would warn him a couple of steps ahead. There was a mutual understanding between them. He needed to do this for himself, and she knew he was the type to learn more efficiently and effectively if he did it alone as he learned at his own pace. Granted, it was also a perfect chance for her to really take a look at him in his entirety.

She truly grasped just how big and tall he was when he stood. He loomed over nearly everything she owned except the fridge, though he was close. The house felt full when he stood.

When he stood, the visual of her sweatpants on him was less funny now. The fact that the length was so short on him was still very humorous, but the humor dwindled when she observed with wide eyes how the waistband snaked around his toned waist and the soft fabric went smoothly over his surprisingly thick thighs and calves as the pants closed around just above his ankles. He definitely, definitely should have been a model.

Yuffie would catch herself gazing almost hungrily after him, a blaring self-evidence of her painfully single life. After all, she was a woman too, a woman with needs. Even though those needs may not always had been forefront, they had their moments when they reminded her that they existed inside her. Like today, for example.

It wasn't that Vincent was this special sexual beam of masculinity that only she was attracted to. She just had a thing for tall guys. Tall guys with abs. Just like her last boyfriend, who was a big mistake. Well, not a completely huge mistake. He was a good boyfriend when it came to her needs. He was definitely there for her sexual needs though he was a little rusty when it came to her emotional needs, but back then, she didn't mind it all that much. She figured they could always work on that together. After all, they loved each other, right?

Christ, that had been five years ago.

When she needed him the most, he wasn't there. When she needed reassurance, love, security, he gave her a confused look and "can you stop acting so crazy?"

Yuffie sighed. She remembered feeling so betrayed by his reaction that she left him too along with everything else in her life. They all belonged to the city after all. Biting her lower lip, Yuffie slapped herself when she noticed herself being greedy with the staring which the sound regrettably caused Vincent to look in her direction with a somewhat confused expression.

"Mosquito," she mumbled hastily, pretending to catch another one in the air. That was so smooth.

Yuffie focused back to his walking. She knew he was smart. After all, he was an assassin. If all those spy movies had taught her anything, it's that assassins were very smart. They were intuitive about their body and their surroundings; they also had very good memory and she assumed he did too.

He proved her theory right when she noticed his footsteps. They were much more confident in their weight and placement as time progressed, and she could see the anticipation in his body language when he got closer to the obstacles in front of him. She wondered if being able to at least faintly see the colors of his environment aided him through this process but she found her answer when she realized he walked with his eyes closed.

Being able to see the colors might not actually be very helpful considering he could not make out the exact outline of each object. In fact, they could be more distracting. Without a definite outline of his settings he must have felt like being in a room completely hand painted by children. It would be dizzying at best, which is probably why he closed his eyes. Or that's at least what she speculated.

He now sat on the couch as she aired out all the sheets from his makeshift bed. As always, he had the news on today. And as usual from the news, there was more politics, more deceit. She tuned it out of course. It was the same old same old.

She was now again alone with her thoughts.

It's been almost a week since Vincent came into her life, and she was bewildered at how fast he fit into her daily life. He let her talk or ramble on about something insignificant like how ridiculous the price of milk bread was and he would just plainly listen. Of course, she wasn't quite sure if he was just too polite to tell her to shut up or he actually enjoyed listening to her trying to comprehend the economics behind food pricing. She chuckled to herself at the thought. A polite assassin was quite humorous, but an assassin listening to someone's conspiracy theory about food pricing? Hilarious.

Nevertheless, Vincent was a nice change for her. The house was habitually lethally quiet, often luring her to sink deep into her own thoughts which she often tried to avoid. It would be so quiet she could taste the staleness in the air.

Now, Yuffie just talked and talked. She felt like herself again, her old self, to a certain extent. She had wondered if this was why Tifa had asked her if she had wanted to come live with her after Yuffie had moved out of the city following THAT incident. By living with her, there would have been someone who could distract her from becoming too absorbed with her depressing thoughts, or someone who could actively encourage her or force her to go do this or that, to create healthy habits to imitate a normal life. The feeling that someone would be there for her in a moment's notice should she ever need them. That sort of comfort when you realize you're not completely alone. The kind of comfort she sought from her ex-boyfriend but didn't get.

Yuffie shook her head. She knew at the time she needed that space, to think about what happened and to come to acceptance of what happened. She couldn't help wonder nonetheless if she could have retained much of her old self had she taken up Tifa's offer back then. Probably. But in the end she didn't and that was the important part, regardless of how many what if's. Furthermore, she had an obligation to remind herself that she did not need to look for that emotional comfort in Vincent. The ending to that story was predictable. She would be once again be stuck with an unsatisfying tall guy with abs.

Still, Yuffie figured it couldn't hurt to rely on him a little bit, just sort of as a friend who was passing by, who also had happened to kill a lot of politicians and was trying to upset the government. She sighed. It was obvious this wasn't going to work. The best thing to do, she thought, was to treat him like he was a visitor who was just happening to stay at the guesthouse she was running. After all, she still had Tifa as busy as she was.

It was around 3pm when she got the call from Tifa, saying she was back in town. The call was brief, both of them knowing they had much to talk about in person. Yuffie quickly changed out of her usual leggings and slipped into a pair of faded jeans and slipped on a thick knitted cardigan. The wind had picked up some cold air and it was a bit chilly outside.

"Hey Vincent, I have to go pick up a package from my friend. It's the friend I told you about, the one you can trust."

He nodded, though he didn't look quite happy. Not that he ever looked happy but you could tell his face was a little different than his usual stoic expression.

She felt a little guilty but she knew they had no choice. She needed the clothes and going to the city, well that was a little bit impossible for her.

This wasn't his first time being alone. He was home alone for an hour when she went to buy some groceries. Or that day when she finally went to her job where she helped out the local clinic, which confirmed his suspicions that she had a medical background. Luckily, the clinic wasn't too terribly busy due to the small and dispersed population out here so she was allowed to call in sick.

Yuffie made it a habit to tell him exactly where she was going to go and how long each outing would take. It was painfully obvious how much trust she wanted to establish with him, which is one of the reasons why he had given her the cell phone to text to Cloud. Her intent didn't come to him as conniving or desperate. She wasn't trying to establish the trust for herself, but it was so that he could feel at ease and feel safe, to reassure him that he had nothing to worry; it was a very unselfish thing to do.

It was also the way she was considerate to his blindness, the efforts she made to tell him every single thing that was around him, the way she let him listen to the news when it was apparent that she didn't like the news as she couldn't sit still when he listened to it or how he could feel her tense up when the news came on. The way she had helped him even though he pointed a gun to her and fully had every means to shoot her if he deemed it appropriate. The way she seemed to go out of her way to be so considerate to him, a stranger. He figured that warranted a thank you of some sorts though he at first wasn't sure how to illustrate that. It wasn't as if he had access to his money or he could help her out physically. He definitely wasn't the type to make a handmade thank you card.

That's when he realized what he could give her was an ease of mind. An answer to how desperately she wanted for him to trust her so he did not have to worry about being betrayed. He was wondering how to display this when at that moment she had given him his cell phone. It was highly amusing when he saw just how happy it made her as she scrambled away from him to hide her enthusiasm.

Per usual, Yuffie made sure all the doors and windows were locked. The curtains and blinds were shut tight to evade any outsiders from trying to take a peek inside her home. And per usual, she left a bowl of snacks and a glass of water beside him, which frankly started to make him feel like a dog. That part was a bit bothersome to him even though she didn't have that intention. He could only hope that his wounds would heal enough quickly so he could build up his stamina and find a way to reach Cloud and get out of here. After all, the faster he got out of here, the safer it was for everyone, especially this girl, who seemed to give too much of herself for others.

* * *

Yuffie snuggled closer to her cardigan as she climbed up the rocky hill. The breeze was cool on her face and she was glad she brought it. The last thing they needed was for her to get sick. The road beneath her was uneven and overrun with stone fragments and shallow angry holes that seemed to be bashed by someone who went overzealous with a hammer. The state of the pavement wasn't something new to her since she walked these broken roads hundreds of times yet the somberness of it all never left. If only they had cared a little bit more about the people out here…

As she reached the top of the hill, she could see Tifa's bar peering out in the distance. A large heavy duty truck, resembling a military grade camper more than a truck, was parked to the side as Tifa's staff hurried to unload the boxes and crates.

"Hey, Yuffie! Long time no see!" A large burly man with dark hair waved at her with one hand as the other held a large crate on his shoulder. He was the tallest out of Tifa's staff and the biggest too with muscles that resembled boulders on a mountain. His wide toothy grin revealed his pearly whites, a stark contrast to his bronzed skin.

"It's only been a week, Barrett," Yuffie yelled back with a teasing tone as she approached him. "Miss me that much?"

"You know it!" The man named Barrett laughed heartily and set the large crate down with care. "Tifa's gone to do some inventory out in the back room. I'll let her know you're here."

"Thanks," Yuffie said with a nod, and returned his smile.

Barrett stared at her, just a little too long that Yuffie tilted her head curiously. He placed his large hand on her shoulder, giving her a waft of his familiar aroma of pinewood and cigars. "Is everything all right with you? Tifa was pretty pissed after that phone call."

"You heard?" Yuffie squeaked in surprise. It would be very, very bad if Barrett knew about Vincent.

"I was just there for the aftermath," Barrett assured, getting the hint that there was something about that conversation she wanted to keep secret. "She was not in the best mood that day after that phone call."

Instinctively, she bit her lower lip, feeling a little guilty. "I'm okay, I just … it was …"

He cut her off swiftly with another pat on her back. "Whatever it is, just make sure you take care of yourself. That's all that matters to Tifa, and me, and everyone else here, Yuffie."

She swallowed hard. She didn't regret her decision in helping out Vincent, but she was starting to regret involving everyone into her mess. She held back the sigh that lingered on her tongue and instead nodded firmly with a solid smile. "I promise. I'm really sorry to worry you!"

Barrett nodded in return and didn't press further. "Go ahead and wait inside, I'll go get Tifa now."

As big as he was, he easily maneuvered between the busy staff members and their stack of boxes like a cat. Yuffie watched for a few moments, her eyes lingering on all the items they managed to acquire. Most of these crates didn't hold just the variations of alcohol that a typical bar needed. Some of these were fresh produce, others were hygiene products, medicine herbs, and the like. Anything the people needed, Tifa made sure she got them. Of course, she didn't charge much. Yuffie always forgot if there was even a set price sometimes with the way Tifa handled things, though she supposed all the business calculations made sense in Tifa's mind. The bar was still here after all. Still, other factors played an important role for Tifa. She traveled far to vendors outside of the city who would offer her many of the items for a cheaper price. The long distance was an issue but she took advantage of that by having a delivery company on the side, often working for different clans or independent towns and groups outside of the city's jurisdiction as she transported goods and often heavy machinery. Lucky for Tifa, she had a great staff who were loyal and skilled to help her alleviate the stress of running three different businesses.

The bell jingled when she pushed through the door and saw Red, another equally rough looking fellow. His hair matched his name, a bright red Mohawk that resembled flames. He wasn't quite as dark as Barrett nor did he match his size; Red was much leaner and slightly shorter with an earthy skin tone. His eyes stood out the most for what would have been a pair of amber orbs had it not for the gruesome gash that struck through his right eye, an old battle scar.

"Run and Coke, Yuffie?" Red asked, already reaching for a glass.

"Yes please," Yuffie replied and laid her head against the wooden counter. She finally released the sigh that she held back in front of Barrett.

Red chuckled softly, his low voice almost like a deep purr. She had always liked his voice. "Sounds like you're in trouble with Tifa."

"Is it that obvious?"

He did that chuckle again. "To everyone but you." He handed her the drink and she graciously downed half of it. "I happened to overhear her conversation on the phone while we were with the Wutai. I have good hearing, you know."

Yuffie raised her brows in agreement. Good was an understatement. He could probably hear what Vincent was doing at her house.

"Before you start arguing with Tifa about why you made the decision you made, listen to her side of the situation, all right?"

"Yes dad," she answered sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

"I already have two kids, I don't need a third idiot to lecture," Red said with a grin.

"But they love me as their big sister," Yuffie pouted with the biggest innocent eyes she could muster.

"Well, don't look now big sister, but here comes your bigger sister." Red led Yuffie with his eyes though she didn't have to follow where he was looking to know who was behind her. Instinctively, Yuffie straightened her back and lowered her elbows on the table.

"Hey Red, can you take over the rest of the inventory?"

"Will do, boss," he answered and patted Yuffie's shoulder, telling her to stay strong.

Tifa slid into the seat next to Yuffie with a large bag in her hand.

"So how was the trip?" Yuffie asked. It was a good start.

Tifa smiled brightly, causing Yuffie to be even more suspicious of her. "It was good. Supplies were in check, and the Wutai clan is doing fine. Your dad says hi."

"He's doing good?"

"Better than you," Tifa answered with a look.

"Better than me?"

"Better than someone who let a complete stranger with a gun bleeding all over her floor in her apartment, wouldn't you say?" Tifa now stared at her with full force, her toned arms crossed against her chest.

"ah…."

"Mmhm. You owe me an explanation Yuffie Kisaragi. You know how worried I was about you when you hung up like that? You tell me there's a murderer on the loose and then say you need clothes for a man! Somehow I couldn't help but think perhaps maybe…. that those two situations were related. But then, I thought this is Yuffie. So naturally I knew for A FACT that they were related. Now, tell me. Everything."

Yuffie's color drained and took another sip of what was left of the rum and coke. "All right, but you have to promise not to interrupt me and also to listen with an open mind."

There was a brief moment of hesitation but thankfully Tifa nodded.

So, Yuffie began her story and told Tifa everything: everything from the fake shower to throw off the policemen to the gun to the panic attack.

Her finger nervously tapped against the glass cup she held in her hand, waiting to be bombarded with yelling and for how completely unreasonable and reckless she was.

"Are you okay? Do you need more medication for your panic attacks? I thought they had completely subsided."

She faltered a bit, not expecting her reaction to be THAT. She nervously cleared her throat as she prepared to answer. "I, I'm okay. They're mostly gone, and I have a bottle left in case the worst comes," Yuffie assured Tifa with a convincing smile. "The panic attack wasn't bad, I assure you. I didn't even need the meds! He helped me through it."

"You have to let me know if it gets worse, all right? Your dad said he has some other medicine that might work better for you." The worry never left Tifa's face and this bothered Yuffie quite a bit. Tifa was prettier when she smiled, when she laughed, when she was angry at her friends' idiotic hijinks, when she was passionate about her work. It pained Yuffie to see her best friend have that shadow looming over her face, as if she had a personal responsibility over Yuffie's mental health.

A wave of guilt washed over Yuffie in an instant. "I'm fine, I swear. It was just unexpected. But everything okay now! He hasn't tried to kill me, I haven't had a panic attack, we watch a lot of TV together, it's all good!"

Her friend didn't respond and seemed to be mulling over the details, silently judging whether or not if this Vincent Valentine was trustworthy or even safe. If he was truly from AVALANCHE, there was no need for him to harm Yuffie unless they really thought of her as a liability, so much so that it was worth killing her. But wouldn't that be against their philosophy?

Tifa sighed and stole Yuffie's drink. She never had any personal or political vendetta against AVALANCHE. She actually supported them in a way though frankly she never liked violence. But she knew, sometimes you just had to fight your way to get what you want especially when it came to people's rights and state of living.

"He trusts me." Yuffie broke Tifa's trail of thought. "He trusts me enough to let me use his phone."

"Phone?"

She nodded. "I… I know I can be foolish, but I'm not stupid. Okay, I can be stupid sometimes but I know this for a fact: Vincent's had this phone for a while. You can tell by the scratch marks and the worn off key pads. He could probably text without even having to look, I know I certainly can on my own phone. But he specifically gave the phone to me to text to his friend. He trusted me to text to him a code and his phone had only 1% battery life. I want to believe in that trust, Tifa."

Their eyes locked with each other and neither faltered, holding each other's true and steady gaze. Tifa was the one to finally break and heavily sighed. To let Yuffie text at a dire time like that, when he knew he wouldn't get another chance to contact his comrades, he must have trusted her greatly.

"If you trust him, then I'll trust him. For now," Tifa said. It was almost sweet the way the uneasiness melted away from Yuffie, and she returned to her happy loose self. "I'll always be wary of him though. You have to respect that."

"Of course! I'm really sorry Tifa for dragging you into my mess."

"You did drag me."

"Oh."

"You did drag me, but I don't mind. I like knowing about your mess, I like knowing what's going on with you. Though, that doesn't mean I can't judge whether or not your messes are caused by stupid decisions."

Here it came, and she managed to remember Red's advice and Yuffie obliged.

"It was a very dangerous situation Yuffie," she said softly as her hand gently clasped over her shoulder. "You really could have gotten killed…TWICE! If that man hadn't killed you, it would have been those men in black if they for a second thought you were hiding him. You know exactly how they are." Tifa didn't like mentioning that incident but in this case she needed to remind Yuffie of that fear to know this wasn't a situation to take lightly. Tifa could feel that same panic she had felt when Yuffie had first hung up on her that night, and she desperately pushed it down. Her friend had gone through so much, she just wished things would be peaceful for her. "You are really lucky things went the way it did or else you'd be dead. Please don't make such a careless mistake like that again."

"It wasn't careless to me, Tifa," Yuffie said softly, though her words were as clear as day with a strength Tifa hadn't seen before. "I made a conscious decision to help him. He was badly injured, and my duty as a nurse kicked in. Then, when I saw those men in those black suits…" She paused for a moment, fighting the sob in her throat that was waiting to come out. "I knew I couldn't let them take him. It's because I know exactly how they are that I chose to hide him."

A moment of silence passed by between them. The only source of sound was the indistinct chatter outside by Tifa's staff as they hauled the crates and boxes.

"I'm sorry for my choice of words," Tifa said quietly, not looking up.

"No I know what you meant, I just…I just needed to let you know out loud…and for myself as well," Yuffie explained with a gentle smile. "I know that you care, and it means the world to me that you're looking out for me. I know that I need a slap on the wrist sometimes."

Tifa gave Yuffie's hand a tight squeeze, causing her to look up. "I'll help you both in any way I can. He's still badly injured, right?"

"Well, thanks to my awesome nursing skills, he's actually healing quite well," Yuffie grinned proudly. Tifa laughed.

"Well, that's good to hear. The faster he heals, the faster he can get back to his buddies. Before I forget, here are his clothes." She pulled up the large bag.

"This is a lot!" Yuffie exclaimed excitedly as she inspected the clothing. Tifa was always a step ahead of her: she had gotten him the basic necessities and more. There were a couple of cotton t-shirts and long sleeves amongst the underwear and socks. There were even a couple of sweatpants and regular pants as well. What the most distinguishing feature of all of them was that they were mostly earth tones or dark greys and blacks. All of them were colors that didn't grasp attention, and if need be, blended easily in the dark.

"Let me know if you need a different size, I can ask Barrett to exchange them if they don't fit."

"I'll let you know after he tries them on. Thanks Tifa." Yuffie held her tight affectionately and Tifa returned her hug with equal affection. "Thank you so much for helping him."

"I'm helping YOU, remember that. The faster he's gone, the safer you are, Yuffie. If there is anything else going on, let me know right away."

"I definitely will! No more secrets!"

"You should head home now, he's probably worried where you are." Tifa was afraid if Yuffie was gone for too long, the man would become suspicious of her and what she might have been up to, unbeknownst to Tifa that Yuffie's already left him alone a couple of times.

With that, Yuffie left with the bag of clothes in her hand as Tifa watched her leave from her seat. She prayed this whole thing would blow over quickly. She didn't want to see Yuffie in another situation again like last time. But as always, Tifa was one step ahead of the game, and she knew this would not blow over quickly or easily. She sighed and slid off the bar stool. She needed to start getting ready for the impending storm.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading guys and sorry about the late update! I have been going through a lot of crap (unemployment, moving to another state, yada yada yada). 
> 
> Anyways, Thanks for reading and please leave a comment or press kudos if you liked it :)  
> Any questions about the chapter or characterizations or whatever, I'll be more than happy to answer them in the comments!  
> My thought of Vincent has always been that he is not cold or emotionless, but just very reserved due to his job even in the game. And of course as he makes friends and goes on his adventure, he becomes more honest and more responsive to people. I dont ever think hes the intentionally cold person (unless its towards someone evil) because of the fact that he has not much social experience and all social experiences has been with very very asshole assholes LOL like Hojo. His words can sometimes be cold but that could be due to his lack of knowledge of social cues and such
> 
> So I never tended to like portrayals of him as this cold unfeeling assassin stereotype (like how they do a lot with Battousai in Rurouni Kenshin)
> 
> So I do apologize if you don't like this type of Vincent but this is what I always thought of Vincent.


	4. Chapter 4

The unrest in the city grew day by day. Anyone connected to Shinra or the government were especially on the edge for now it had been almost a month since their first lead to AVALANCHE disappear. People wanted answers. HE wanted answers. They had nothing.

 

The city council were worried of course about another large scale attack. However, they were more preoccupied with their recent failure to capture one injured and blinded man and the image of incompetence that dragged the government. They were in particular worried about a certain someone who had invested a lot of resources into this government; a certain someone who had a lot more to lose with this failure.

And unlucky for them, that certain someone was right in front of them.

 

The man leaned back in his chair as he calmly looked over each member of the city council who were fidgeting anxiously under his eerily serene gaze. His hair was pulled back into a neat pony tail with the paleness of his hair contrasting sharply against his finely pressed dark suit. Unlike his eyes that scanned each one of them, his neatly dressed body was deadly still like a coiled snake waiting silently to strike its prey.

 

 

 

A hard fist slammed onto the table. Unfortunately, the fist did not belong to the impeccably dressed man.

 

“It’s been a month since he escaped, Kadaj! Either by now you should have found him or at least his fucking corpse!” the man yelled defiantly as a show of power unbeknownst to him that everyone could see the cold sweat running down his thick neck. He did not like this feeling of being cornered. After all, he was a city council member, a politician who could create laws and change the course of this city (if he ever bothered to have actually done his job). He wasn't about to be treated this way just because Shinra forged a contract with them.

 

Kadaj didn’t respond. He sat patiently in his seat until the strained silence began to eat at the one who dared to make the outburst.

 

The man swallowed, the air suddenly feeling very dry. “We...We’re like sitting ducks! AVALANCHE is probably planning their next attack on us and you are doing NOTHING!! We've angered them with this bomb and we're just sitting here waiting for their retaliation! This was not what we were promised!”

 

Kadaj finally moved and stood up gracefully. He walked in slow strides around the long conference table as each click of his heels echoed in the room like a ticking time bomb. Now, no one even dared to even fidget.

 

“It is interesting,” Kadaj spoke with a half amused tone, “that you bring that up, Mr. Lee. For you see, I was about to say the exact same thing.”  

 

He paused to direct his eyes out the glass windows that stretched all around them, providing them with a clear view over the city with the sky burning behind them as the sun set.

 

 

“Let’s take a step back shall we?” Kadaj suggested in a suspiciously cheery tone as he turned back around to them with wide open arms. “It seems, we need a little refresher!”

 

The air stilled dangerously at the subtle strain in his voice.

 

“Oh don’t look so tense! I’m more than happy to do so seeing as you are all a bit stupid...well...MORE stupid than we had originally speculated,” Kadaj exclaimed, his smile now taut like a tightly wound rubber band. “When we had made this alliance, we were promised some...competency. We of course have our own resources to handle AVALANCHE, but if we did everything underground after this alliance, we would be no better than your average mob for hire!" He turned back towards them now as the sun set behind him, making him look like a fallen angel rising from the depths of hell. "And that really defeats the purpose...of this merger." "I thought it understood between your people and my people that we would do this right when it came to taking down AVALANCHE especially after their little fiasco with the bomb. No, when we made this alliance, we wanted the complete compliance of the government to make sure AVALANCHE would be handled in the _right_ way.”

 

He made his way again around the table, and they unintentionally found themselves in a murderous game of duck duck goose as the officials were petrified in their seats. They weren’t sure where he’d direct the anger that was clearly raging inside him, but each of them all desperately hoped his anger would be directed to the fat pig who dared challenge Kadaj. Better him than them.

 

Kadaj turned back to the window again. His expression terrified those who caught it in the reflection of the glass. “Isn’t that a good plan? I thought it was an excellent plan. People already believe our contract is one of corruption, a buy out. This way I hoped that arresting that man would be a nice demonstration of the strength of our merger.It would show the government is still working in its full efficiency if not better than before. it would show that the government is still taking care of things and that SHINRA is not taking care of things 'discreetly'. Overall I thought this would be a great PR moment for us and for our unity, to make the public TRUST us."

 

"Doesn't that sound like a good plan?" he repeated, "to make these lower lives feel safe and reassure them?"

 

“Now,” Kadaj spun around to face the man who made the outburst. Never has such beautiful blue eyes came across so maliciously. “I can’t exactly say where it all went wrong. We had knowledge of when they would attack, we had the bomb placed, the sacrificial lambs fully bloody and ready to die or well...not ready to die but we all gotta die some time right? Everything was perfect. And for sure, I had thought everything was going well. I mean, the man was pulverized by the explosion AND he was blinded. You can’t really ask for a better victim!”

 

  
A sort of maniacal laughter chilled the air and everyone was on the edge of their seats. Literally. They were ready to run should things turned sour. To be perfectly honest, they weren’t sure if they would even make it out of this place alive should Kadaj go into one of his tantrums again.

“And YET Mr. Lee. It was YOUR policemen who could not even capture this decrepit bastard. I even lent you some of my men after you lost him on that car chase,” he turned to the other members as a very disturbing cackle escaped his twisted lips. “This idiot didn’t even bother to bring his fucking SCENT DOGS! He brings them after a rainshower!!”

 

Kadaj clutched his stomach as he boisterously laughed out loud to a joke that everyone seemed to have missed.

 

"So I'm very happy Mr lee that it was YOU who had made such a defiance. And lets face it, we could just eradicate all of you right now and just take over the city. We have the resources and the money and the power. BUT to save us the headache of having to deal with retaliation and the possible surge of AVALANCHE members, we thought this would be the smoothest way possible.

 

Soon, the hysterical laughter simmered down to a bemused chuckle. “And we had given you all...soo much money.” He shook his head in disbelief. They were really missing out on a funny joke. “And all we had asked...in exchange...was just some competency.”

 

It was all too fast to recur. The seat was kicked out from underneath Mr. Lee and before he could scramble up from the floor, Kadaj landed a hard kick into his fat gut and pressed his pointed black shoes down against his face roughly as a desperate painful scream spluttered out of his lips.

 

“I hope I managed to refresh your mind about who was not doing their fucking job. But I suppose I should have known better than to actually rely on you idiots to do something productive. Fool me once shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

 

Blood gushed out from underneath his shoes with a sickening crack as he pressed down with his weight. Kadaj rubbed his shoes against the man’s clothes to wipe the blood from underneath. Mr. Lee now wailed and cried as he clutched at his shattered, bloody nose.

 

“Perhaps, giving you all money has made you forget a very important point."

He kicked.

" Maybe what we need to do is remind you who is actually in charge." 

Another kick. Another cry. 

"We need to have a refresher of what happens when you fail OUR orders." 

A heavier kick this time. Mr. Lee was now sobbing with blood and spit gurgling from his mouth.

 

“W...What are you going to do?” someone dared to ask in a hushed whisper.

 

“With 50 pigs gone from that explosion, one more won’t hurt, will it?" He took out a carefully sheathed knife from his inner pocket and revealed the blade, the sharp steel glowing in a beautiful gold hue against the setting sun.

 

Mr. Lee screamed at the sight of the sharp knife. He desperately crawled towards the door as fast as his mangled body would let him as he whimpered and cried and shouted for help. 

 

Kadaj cooly trailed after him. 

 

A horrifying scream solidified the tension in the room.

 

Kadaj sighed as he used the man’s pocket square to clean his knife. “And this is an important public service announcement to our good friends in the government: you are all replaceable. The moment you took our money, you became our live stock. You want to stay alive in this animal farm, you better stay fucking useful.”

* * *

 

_“City official and retired chief of police Cyrus Lee has been reported missing for a week now as the government is scrambling to contain the mess that was the terrorist bombing earlier this month and the wreckage and chaos that had ensued the city. Cyrus was in charge of the search party in locating the criminal Vincent Valentine of AVALANCHE when to the dismay of many people, the search had came up completely empty. Interim city official Hojo has taken over until Cyrus Lee is found, and he has issued his first public statement:_

 

_“The city is hurting right now and you have every right to feel this way. We had let you down in the worst way possible but I guarantee you that will all change.  We will stay strong in the midst of this villainous effort to break us apart and continue to protect our people. Shinra Electric Company has graciously donated to build a monument for those whose life were lost in the line of duty as well as donated to increase our efforts in finding the culprit responsible. We will not rest until AVALANCHE and its affiliates are found and we will bring them to justice for their heinous crime.”_

 

_“Any word on where city official Cyrus Lee may be at?” A reported asked._

 

_“We have speculation at the moment but due to security reasons we cannot disclose them to the public at this time.”_

 

_“There are rumors sir saying that he may have been assassinated or caught by the terrorist group Avalanche. Do we have any reason to believe that is true?”_

 

_The man named Hojo looked grieved. “I cannot confirm nor deny at the moment. Right now our main focus is locating the man Vincent Valentine as he stands as the true danger to the public, and Mr. Lee would also agree with our decision as being a chief of police himself: the well being of the citizens is vastly more important than one life. While we will continue to look for Cyrus, most of our efforts will be put in finding Vincent Valentine and strengthening our security. Until the man is caught, there will be stricter enforcement of the city’s boundaries so we can monitor who is coming and going. We apologize for the minor inconvenience to our citizens but we greatly appreciate your patience in working with us in providing a safer environment for all of us to live in. Our city’s greatest asset is our people, and we strongly encourage everyone to report any suspicious activity. That will be all for today, and we will update you with progress along the way.”_

 

Vincent gripped the cup in his hands tightly.

 

_Hojo…_

 

The man should have been dead but like the cockroach he was, he managed to survive each time. He had been his target that night, the man behind everything. The mad man had cleverly disguised himself as a humble public servant when in fact he was the leech of Shinra Electric Power Company. Using their technology and irresponsible funding, he had exploited innocents for his twisted experiments.

 

“I wondered what happened to Mr. Lee?” Yuffie sat down next to him with a tray of hot tea, having overheard a part of the news in the kitchen.

 

“He’s dead.”

 

Her head whipped towards him, “Dead?!” she repeated in shock. “...So AVALANCHE really did-.”

 

“It wasn’t us.”

 

The curt reply instinctively made her purse her lips tight like a child who got scolded for saying a bad word.

 

“Then who?”

 

“Him.”

 

Yuffie turned back to see a tall lanky man who seemed more fit to be in a lab than on a podium addressing the public about police matters. The man was a strange one. His expression was remorseful but his eyes looked bored and almost annoyed as if he didn't want to be there. A person was missing and yet this man looked as if it was merely an inconvenience to his daily schedule. 

 

 

“He seems like an asshole,” she joked, awkwardly trying to lift the sullen mood. “I mean just look at him, his face screams I have childhood trauma and I use that as an excuse to make others life miserable. That and he probably killed animals for fun as a kid. A true serial killer in the making.”

 

“You’re not far off.”

 

Yuffie’s eyes widened even wider now. “Wow. And they let a guy like that in the government?”

 

“Hopefully, there won’t be a day when you’ll see him in person," Vincent stated, his blind eyes glued to the television. 

 

After a moment of silence, she hesitated to ask. “Is he one of your targets?” She turned to him now, wanting to observe his reaction when he answered.

 

“Yes.”

 There was no pause, no hesitation whatsoever. There was a part of her that was satisfied to how honest he was with her. Yet, knowing he had to kill the man unsettled her, not because she had some code of honor but to know that Vincent really did have to go back to his old life. 

 

“Will there be a day when you’ll see him in person?”

 

“If all goes to plan.”

 

There was a gravity behind his words and that scared her. She felt there was an ending that was cemented in place and only she didn't know what it held. The sense of danger that lingered with Vincent paralleled the type of terror she had felt when her friend had died in that hospital room. 

 

Yuffie sat there absorbed in her thoughts as Vincent patiently waited for her to speak. 

 

“If that moment comes, I hope you’ll come back safely,” she said as she met his eyes, almost searching in his expression and those blank eyes for a confirmation.

 

_Say it, say you’ll come back._

 

He didn’t answer and instead diverted to a different topic. “What time will you be leaving for work?”

 

That seemed to do the trick as she looked up to check the time. "Oh I should start getting ready, I need to leave in 20 minutes. I’ll be there until 7 today so I left some food in the fridge. You memorized the number to the clinic, right?”

 

“Yes,” he answered. He caught himself sighing inwardly at his successful distraction. 

 

“Good.” There was a smile in her voice and he had done his job. Someone like her did not need to worry about demons like Hojo. And she certainly did not need to worry about people like himself. When he managed to heal fully and get in contact with Cloud, she could return to her daily life and forget this war. After all, she was only an innocent civilian. 

 

He closed his eyes as he listened to her getting ready. She had a habit where she always lost something before she had to leave, whether it be her keys, her jacket, purse, or even a pair of socks.

 

Vincent was used to her going to work now after a month of living with her. Her schedule was erratic as there was not a set hours of operation for the clinic. Due to the sparse population out here, she usually left for the clinic when someone ringed in or if the doctor from the next town over had phoned in ahead to let her know of his plans for the week. He was a good man according to Yuffie. The town of Heagen was about a 40 mile drive from their little shanty town, but he drove over those long distances to provide his services for a minimal fee here which barely covered the cost to make the trip.

 

He oddly thought it was a shame that Yuffie was not aware of her own good deeds. Yuffie was considerate as he had witnessed from day one. On days when she would be gone till late into the night, she made his dinner early and left it in the fridge. She even had led him around the small kitchen, guiding his hands to let him feel where the appliances were located.

 

Little by little he had gotten to know her and it was an interesting way to perceive someone's personality just from listening to their daily routine. And of course, as it applied to both of htem, there were still some secrets between them. Very rarely would she talk about the time when she worked at the hospital in the city; if she ever did mention it, it would be very brief and vague. Tifa seemed to be her closest friend though it appeared she was friends with most of the people who worked at the ever famous Tifa’s bar he kept hearing about.

 

“Before I go let me change your bandage!” She rushed out of her room with the first aid kit in hand.

 

When she unwrapped the bandage, she saw the gruesome injury had been mostly healed and all that was left was some newly formed flesh that was destined to be an ugly scar. “Just a little bit more cleaning and you should be good to go soon.”

 

She got the cleaner and dabbed gently around the area, carefully avoiding the more raw areas. She looked on apologetically, “I’m sorry I can’t do anything about the scar.”

 

“It’s not important.”

 

“Still,” Yuffie commented as she finished up. “You are one lucky guy. To have it this healed without any infection and without a tetanus shot? You are seriously lucky.”

 

There was the softest puff of air from his nostrils, and she grinned.  With a hidden smile, Yuffie put away the first aid kit and hurried out the door. “I’ll see you at 7, Vincent!”

 

A few moments passed before he heard the door flung open, “I”m sorry, I think I forgot my-.”

 

Before she could finish, a set of keys launched through the air and she caught it with ease with an embarrassed laugh. “Sorry!! See you at 7, and I’m leaving for real this time!” He heard her voice drift off and heard the jangling of the keys before the locks set in place. Now he knew she was gone.

 

Vincent used this time to move around a bit freely. He slid the coffee table over to one side so he had enough space to stretch out his long body. He began with easy, yet long and detailed stretches to make sure each muscle was loosened up before working them out. He needed to build back some of his endurance and strength if he wanted to be in good condition whenever Cloud decided to show up.

 

He began with his legs, before moving onto his arms and core. As he pushed himself, his thoughts were consumed with her. She was an interesting person, needless to say. After all, this was his first time in a long time to ever really be this close with a stranger let alone a civilian.

 

Throughout the month, he had felt himself changing. He was reluctant to this change at first. Mostly, it was due to the fear that this was making him weaker especially emotionally. But, he rationalized that change was something that happened naturally and not necessarily a sign of weakness. This all could even be him just responding to someone completely different than him so it technically wasn't a change within himself but rather just another side of him he is discovering under new circumstances. 

In the long time he had worked in this industry, no one had ever told him the distinction between the good or the bad. After all, they were preoccupied with defeating a major corrupt organization disguising themselves as a harmless electric corporation. He had never gotten a lecture about the way he responded to people, or how he made others feel due to his stoniness. No one had time to worry about tha tin his industry and he certainly did not care about it, until now. 

Here he was, an assassin living with a civilian who very, very much observed the way he responded to her. And as much as he would like to NOT care, he knew in the end it was inevitable. The way he felt her eager eyes on him when she asked him questions or made him food, the laugh that filled the air even though he was sure he didn't say anything funny, the silent pouts he imagined when he said something negative or scolded her.

 

He cared actually quite a lot. 

 

He sat back down now and slowed his breathing as he prepared to meditate. 

 

Vincent really had been lucky, as Yuffie had reminded him before. Vincent Valentine had been lucky to have met someone who did not turn him in. He had been lucky to have met someone who had been a nurse at a medical hospital where she knew how to treat severe injuries. It had been a strange turn of luck he had never experienced or expected. Up until now he had never experienced such a thing called “luck.”

 

His comrades would say they were lucky to have survived that night, or they were lucky to have missed that bullet.

 

He had never known what that meant.

 

Luck was never a factor into his missions. The bullet missed him because he saw it coming. It missed because of the years of training and experience out on the field that build his instinct. The bullet didn’t miss him because he was lucky. It missed him because he knew how to avoid it. If he screwed up, he was dead. It was as simple as that. To a man like Vincent, there was no luck when it came to surviving. And he had certainly survived this long because of his priceless skills and experiences.

 

That was all he could depend on. That and Cloud, the rare comrade who he would call friend had he not been so uncomfortable with the notion of the term friend (though it was not the same for Cloud who readily referred to him as his friend).

 

But he did, didn’t he. Vincent referred to him as his friend in front of Yuffie, and so easily too.

 

He had certainly changed, for better or for worse.

* * *

 

It had been a long day. There were many people who had a cold or who were in the beginning stages of the flu. Luckily, Tifa had gotten enough medicine for Yuffie to distribute at the set price Tifa advised her to do. 

 

Dr. Grey came out of his office with his coat and scarf. “Good work tonight, Yuffie.”

 

“Same to you, Dr. Grey. Thanks for coming out tonight.”

 

He shook his head with a weary smile. “I’m only doing my job. I took an oath for a reason.”

 

“I wish some doctors would remember that.”

 

He patted her shoulder with a knowing smile. “Could you thank Tifa for me for getting everything I requested. I’m only able to do what I can here thanks to you and your friend.”

 

“We do what we can since you do so much for us here, Dr. Grey,” Yuffie smiled.

 

“You sure I can’t help you close up?” 

 

She stood up and rushed him out, “No, no. This is the little stuff and I can take care of this. You have a long drive ahead of you, don’t worry about here. I don’t mind finishing up anyway! Go! Your family misses you, I’m sure.”

 

“I appreciate it, Yuffie. I’ll see you in a couple of days. Let me know if there’s an emergency though, all right?”

 

“Yes, yes, Dr. Grey. Now hurry on out, I can’t close properly with you here,” Yuffie gave him a soft pat on the back as she lead him out the door.

 

“All right, all right. Good night, Yuffie.”

 

The doctor finally headed out and she finally sighed in content. Each second he stayed after, the guilt would build. After all, he had a long drive ahead of him. The man was a sweetheart but she knew he was always trying to do too much. As much as she appreciated his efforts, sometimes you had to know when to say No.

 

She snorted. She should take her own advice, honestly.

 

She got busy with organizing the office and sanitizing every surface and throwing out the trash appropriately before finally locking up.

 

The weather was wonderful tonight. The stars were brightly lit for once and it wasn’t too cold out unlike the previous nights when she felt like her toes were going to fall off. The ocean’s waves were lazy and dull and she knew this type of weather did not come often during the cold harsh winter.

 

She frequently liked to come out by herself on nights like this to walk. It was a habit she developed after moving out here. In the city when day became night, she had always rushed to her apartment as soon as possible. The only times she would be out was when she would be out with her then boyfriend. Other than that, she never went out alone in the city especially at night. 

 

But here, she felt oddly safe. They had always made this town to be the more dangerous than the city. The moment she moved out here was when she realized how much of that was a lie. The town was much quieter and peaceful. She began to enjoy taking walks at night even on her days off from the clinic. When it was warm enough, she liked to walk barefoot on the beach to enjoy the soft sand plush between her toes and the salty breezy ocean air. 

Still, she didn't mind this cold winter night. Her little house was in view now and disappointment crept up inside her. She wanted to enjoy this walk a little longer. She bit her lips uncertainly and  wondered if Vincent would be up for a walk. Since he had shown up, she had stopped her walks. 

 

When she walked in she saw that Vincent was sitting on the couch, freshly showered with his hair nice and dry.

 

“Did you eat?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Good, good,” Yuffie replied as she rummaged through the fridge after setting her bag down.

 

After a small pause, Vincent spoke up, “How was the clinic?”

“It wasn’t bad. Just a few people with the cold but nothing too serious. Tifa had gotten enough medicine to go around so we were well prepped,” Yuffie explained happily before biting hungrily into a sandwich she had made earlier.

 

When she finally finished the sandwich, she walked over to Vincent. “Hey, so I was wondering...did you want to go out for a walk? No one is out right now and I have a hat you can wear. I figured it be kind of stuffy for you since you were inside the house all day.”

 

“Yes, that would be nice.” he answered.

 

Yuffie hummed in reply, “Okay let me get the hat and the muffler!”

 

When she returned, Yuffie asked him to sit down on the floor in front of her as she sat behind him on the couch. Vincent sat there confused yet nevertheless stayed still for the girl. Carefully, Yuffie gently brushed his hair back while silently marveling the softness of his long black tresses. She was pretty sure they used the same shampoo now and her hair never turned out this nice. It must have been genetics. She frowned.

 

Yuffie tied the hair at a midway height and took the ponytail and twisted it loosely before lifting it upwards to the top of his head. Once that was done, she hastily pulled the baseball cap over so that his long hair was tucked inside the hat without any large bumps. It was an old trick she had used back in the city with her own hair when it was longer. Sometimes it was just easier to walk back home from work at night when assholes thought you were just another dude.

 

With his hair fixed into the cap, she helped him slip into his black coat that Tifa had gotten him. Yuffie made sure to wrap the muffler around him so that most of his face was hidden.

 

The evening air had dropped slightly yet she ventured out anyway. Luckily for her, the stars were still out and the moon was in full force, shining above the dark ocean and piercing through the darkness with its luminous light.

 

Vincent walked by her side with her hand in the crook of his elbow to guide him through the sand. It was a bit trickier than he had anticipated to walk through the sand for half of it was frozen and stiff and the other half was still loose thanks to the slightly warmer weather earlier today.

 

The gentle waves slurring against the wet sand was a pleasant backdrop music as it filled the silence between them before Yuffie spoke up.

 

“Are you cold?” Yuffie asked, sniffling slightly.

 

“You seem to be.”

 

“No, no. My nose always gets a little runny with the cold air. This is nice though, isn’t it?” she mentioned as she gazed around the beach. They were secluded in the darkness of the night with the bright moon their only source of light, like they were in another world.

“Did you used to do this often?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, when the weather permitted it. I did it a lot during the summer since it was always cooler in the evenings.”

 

“Isn’t it a little dangerous to be walking outside alone at night?” he asked.

 

Yuffie looked up in surprise. He was...concerned? Her rosy cheeks became even rosier. “Well...it's safer here at night than in the city to be honest. There’s no one here to harass me.”

 

Without his tone ever changing, Vincent continued, “you should still be careful. You never know what’s lurking in the shadows.”

 

“You sound just like Tifa.”

 

“Tifa is smart then.”

 

Yuffie stuck out her tongue at him and then turned her head away when he glanced towards her.

 

“You did something just now.”

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said in a sing song voice.

 

The darkness helped conceal the smile on his face, unbeknownst to Yuffie.

 

“Do you get worried your friend might not show up?” Yuffie asked suddenly as she gazed out the ocean.

 

“No.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because he pulls through.”

 

“That’s a lot of trust,” she mused thoughtfully. Even he has a friend like that, she thought. She smiled gently into the night in response. “I'm glad you have someone to trust like that.”

 

“Oh?”

 

Yuffie nodded. “I assume being in your area of work, trust doesn’t come easily even from people who are working on the same side since there could be spies. And people are people, from my experience. Even the best of people get swayed and they end up betraying others. So, it's nice to know that even though you’re in an environment where you need to look out for yourself, you have that one person you can count on. That person who you know will come through for you especially when you need them the most…”

 

“I am guessing Tifa is that person for you,” Vincent stated quietly.

 

Yuffie nodded against his shoulder, unknowingly leaning into the arm she was holding. “I honestly don’t know where I’d be right now if it wasn’t for her.”

 

They had stopped walking for a while now. From a far, someone would have mistaken them for a couple enjoying a nice moonlit walk in the winter. They both gazed off into the dark horizon with the bright moon in their sights.“Even my own boyfriend ….er ex-boyfriend now, wasn’t there for me back then, and he was someone I trusted too you know?”

 

He knew immediately of “when” she was talking about. He didn’t know much about her time during then either, but he recognized the tone when she spoke of it, the traumatizing incident that had triggered her panic attack on their second day together.

 

“Honestly….” she started nervously. Yuffie closed her eyes tightly, swallowing hard as she prepared for the next words. She wanted to say it with conviction because it was something she needed to acknowledge for a long time and oddly enough with Vincent's presence she felt strong enough to do so. “Honestly, I’d probably be dead right now. I really didn’t want to live during that time.”

 

She didn’t turn to meet his eyes, nor did he. They both fixed their eyes on the darkness before them.

 

A moment of silence passed until he finally spoke up. “There...are many people I am sure who are glad that you are still alive.”

 

Yuffie felt a small grin coming on and looked down at her feet. “I mean, sure. After all, who else would help around here?”

 

“I do not mean it in terms of your medical skills although I do not doubt that they value your skills. There are many people I believe in your life who are glad for your existence.”

 

Tears began to well up in her eyes and they soon gathered in large droplets that her vision became a little hazy. She tried to laugh it off. This was no time to cry. “I didn’t think I’d ever hear something like that from you!”  


Yuffie sniffled for a bit as she clumsily tried to wipe her eyes to get rid of any evidence that she cried though it was a bit too late for that.

 

“Do you believe that for yourself?” Yuffie asked curiously, sniffling slightly.

 

“No. There are many people who would be glad if I were dead. I do not live because there is a purpose or because I want to live. I live because ...I feel that I could be of use for others who have good intentions for this world.”

 

Yuffie was not sure how to respond. His words carried him away even though he was right there next to her. She felt like he was drifting away and that she was finally realizing just how far their places were in this world. Why did he speak like he’s not a part of this world? Like he wasn’t meant to belong in it?

 

Before she knew it, she had reached for his hand and held it tightly, like he’d disappear in an instant if she let go of him. “I hope...that one day, Vincent,” she spoke into the darkness, “you find yourself living because you want to see the sunrise the next day. And that you live because you want to live, and not for anyone else except yourself.”

 

They held each other, gazing into each other’s eyes. His eyes though were shadowed by the cap and she could barely read his facial expression which was usually hard to read even when his face was in full view.  She wasn’t sure if the words reached him though she desperately wished they had. To suddenly hear him speak of mortality the way he did, it frightened her to her core.

 

She wondered why his words terrified her so much. Maybe it was because whatever he said, it was the truth, a statement of the inevitable future.

 

When she realized she was holding onto his hand, she retreated her hand back quickly. “My goodness your hand is warm,” she joked, and now her eyes and hands felt foreign and lost when he reached out and grasped it. With their hands clasped together, he tucked his hands into the pocket of his jacket.

 

“Wh..I,” Yuffie stuttered when Vincent interrupted her.

 

“Your hands are cold,” he said simply as if that was reason enough. “Come,” he said in his ever stoic voice, “you need to warm up. The great nurse Yuffie Kisaragi can not afford to get sick when there are patients to treat.”

 

Yuffie broke into laughter and playfully punched his shoulder. His voice was so monotonous that made it so funny since she knew this was his strange awkward way of joking. It was so emotionless the joke sounded so serious and genuine.

As they walked hand in hand, Yuffie’s brown eyes followed her arm to where she was joined with Vincent in his warm pocket. It was certainly warm in there. She bet it was warmer in his jacket too.

 

Flushing vividly, she shook her head aggressively to clear that thought. Vincent as usual ignored her. He knew she was back into her thoughts again.

 

Her heart was beating loudly in her chest as her mind unconsciously focused on how his long fingers were entwined with hers so intimately and she felt the roughness of his palms against her own.  It was so intimate she felt like her heart was going to explode. What was wrong with her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for waiting for the update! Like I said before (dont know if this is an option, but it is an option for FF.NET, best way to know when I update is to set me on an alert because my personal life is a little hectic so I unfortunately can't update as regularly as I want. 
> 
> I do want to thank you all for liking/giving me kudos and leaving me comments, those always ALWAYS motivate me to write especially when I'm having a writers block. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I think the most difficult thing about this story is pacing and making sure they're not moving too fast or too slow, but I always have to remind myself sometimes ppl who live together for 24/7, things move a little different for them in terms of relationship and bonding. And like i've said about Vincent before (who may be confused to my interpretation of him), he's has never been a cold person to me. I always viewed him as someone who just doesn't really know what to do in social situations and that he cares on the inside, he's just not very outwardly expressible on the outside (though he does have his serious and cold vibe if need be)
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading and leave me a comment or kudos if you enjoyed it! I will also answer any questions you have.


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